


open my lips when it is time to execute

by closedcaptioning



Series: sdr2/drv3 crossover rarepairs [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Crossover, F/F, Rare Pairings, and sonia "i love serial killers" nevermind, featuring: maki "i will kill you" harukawa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 12:14:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29999196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/closedcaptioning/pseuds/closedcaptioning
Summary: For a princess, Sonia Nevermind has... unusual interests. The Novoselic Royal Palace has a well-stocked selection of books on true crime, and more than once, her governess has found the young princess, eyes shining, hunched over a case file detailing the violent history of a serial killer.It's a harmless habit, her parents explain. She'll grow out of it.
Relationships: Harukawa Maki/Sonia Nevermind
Series: sdr2/drv3 crossover rarepairs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2206776
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	open my lips when it is time to execute

Sonia is at a royal banquet when she meets the assassin. She is fifteen years old, bored out of her mind, but trying not to show it, because she will be scolded once the banquet is over if she yawns when the ambassadors talk, or rolls her eyes when yet another senator mentions how beautiful she is, or how she’s going to grow into such a lovely young lady. 

The crown prince of Burckhard, a bloated man in his late fifties, approaches Sonia’s father and bows deeply. “Your Majesty,” he says, ignoring Sonia entirely, a crime for which one can have their earlobes removed in Novoselic, but one which goes unmentioned here. Sonia stifles a sigh. Burckhard is a small, economically-inconsequential nation that borders Novoselic, but it is always important to keep one’s neighbors happy. “This is a fine banquet indeed, don’t you agree?”

Small talk. Sonia tunes the prince out and mentally runs through the list of irregular verbs that her governess will test her on tomorrow. She wishes something would happen, for once, at these stupid banquets — anything at all.

“... overseas investments,” the crown prince is saying, and for lack of anything better to do, Sonia allows herself to study him. The caterpillar mustache twitching on his upper lip. The jut of his fat stomach over his belt buckle. The way his neck skin folds around his second chin. Sonia is staring at his puffy chest — over-decorated with medallions — when suddenly the prince cuts himself off with a strange choking noise.

“Are you all right?” Sonia’s father asks with a frown.

The prince blinks once, eyes bugging out of his head, and then he coughs a spray of blood onto the fine, expensive carpet. He clutches at his chest as he sinks to the floor, and as he falls, Sonia sees it — the gold knob of a dagger handle jutting out of his back, the blade of the knife buried to the hilt.

There is a horrific pause as the king and princess of Novoselic process this unexpected development, and then a fine lady seated at the head of the table gets to her feet, jabs an elegantly-manicured finger at the body of the crown prince, and _screams_.

She screams like an opera singer, Sonia thinks as panic grips the banquet hall. People in fine outfits, kings and dictators, dukes and tyrants, are shrieking and stumbling over themselves to get to the door. Sonia is jostled on all sides and nearly thrown to the floor, but she manages to keep from being trampled by diving under the nearest table. Not until she has gathered her skirts around her does she realize that she isn’t alone.

There’s another girl under the table. She’s a little younger than Sonia, and her outfit isn’t as fancy — a nobleman’s daughter rather than a direct descendant of royalty, some innate part of Sonia’s brain supplies — and she’s holding a knife. 

Sonia goes very still. The girl is curled into herself, and the hand gripping the knife is shaking. Sonia feels a strange, detached sense of calm. One minute ago, she was staring at the first dead body she had ever seen in her life. There’s no fear in her now, only a detached numbness. As if in slow motion, she reaches towards the girl.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she murmurs. “Are you all right?”

The girl flinches back and musters the nastiest glare Sonia has ever seen. “Don’t touch me,” she spits. Sonia blinks in surprise. No one has ever spoken to her like that before. Such a tone would be punishable by having one’s left pinky toe severed from their foot. But Sonia considers the way the crown prince had ignored her, and she shrugs it off. The laws of Novoselic are not universal. 

“I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to.” Sonia blinks at the girl and smiles, and she notes the way the girl’s shoulders relax a tiny bit. Sonia has long since learned the power of her smile; it can charm her out of reprimands from her governess, and into banquets and special events like this one, if she so desires. But almost immediately, the girl tenses up again, raising the knife higher. 

“Good. If y-you come any closer I’ll k-kill you,” she says, voice wobbling over the words, and then Sonia notices the handle of the dagger. A gold knob, just like the one sticking out of the prince’s back.

Sonia swallows. “Did you kill him?”

“W-what?”

“Did you kill that man?”

In an instant, the girl is on top of her, knife pressing into Sonia’s throat. Gone is the teary warble of her voice, the shaking hand. Her movements are fluid and steady. “I have to dispatch with you now,” she says, in a completely different voice, and Sonia gasps.

“Wait!”

The girl pauses. “Why should I?”

“You’re an assassin, right?” The word is delicious on Sonia’s tongue. Even now, the adrenaline pumping through her veins is not from fear; it’s from the unexpected delight of this situation, the girl on top of her, the golden opportunity that has fallen into her lap. 

“What?

“I read all about assassins and serial killers! They are fascinating!” Sonia licks her lips and tries to tone her smile down from blinding to mild-mannered. “You killed him because of — political alliances? Or an ex-lover, perhaps?” A full-body shiver chases its way down her spine. “Oh, I am so lucky to meet you!”

The assassin is staring, wide-eyed, at her. “You… aren’t scared?”

“No!” Sonia wishes she had a hand free so she could pinch herself and make sure this isn’t an amazing dream. “I know you can’t kill me — I’m not your target, am I? You have already killed him, and you would wish to minimize collateral damage.”

The assassin girl scowls, but the pressure on Sonia’s neck lessens. “You’ve blown my cover, you know.”

“Have I?” Sonia’s eyes twinkle up at the girl. “Who would believe a scared little princess like me?”

The girl is silent. Sonia shuts her eyes and revels in the moment. The sound from outside has died down, which means she only has a certain amount of time before the police arrive. “You should hurry and escape,” she warns the girl. 

“Shut up.” The knife is back. Sonia winces, but her discomfort does nothing to dull the smile stretching across her face. “I still have to kill you.”

“No, you don’t! Not right now, anyway. I’m quite famous. You could kill me anytime.”

“How do I know you won’t go snitch on me right now?” the girl challenges, and Sonia laughs.

“I know nothing about you! I can barely see you in this darkness! And, as I said, who would believe me?”

The girl considers this for a long moment, and then she climbs off. Sonia lies still for a moment, massaging her neck, before sitting up. Her dress is certainly a mess, but considering the situation, it isn’t likely that her chambermaid will blame her. 

“Listen,” says the girl, voice dangerously soft. “You’re going to give me to the count of one thousand to get out of the banquet hall, okay? I have six different types of projectile weapons and nineteen knives left, and I am very lethal with them. And you don’t want to know what else I have. Understand?”

Sonia nods vigorously. “Yes!”

“If I hear one rumor circulating about a small assassin who was at this banquet, I’ll make sure I find someone with a hit on Princess Sonia Nevermind. I’m sure there are plenty of people who would pay favorably for your head.”

Sonia clutches at the front of her dress upon hearing her name on the assassin’s lips. “So you do know me,” she breathes, and the girl scoffs.

“Of course I know you. I memorized the information of everyone in this room before I even set foot in the building. So there’s no escaping me.”

Sonia tingles all over with excitement. “Of course,” she says, a little breathless. “I understand.”

“Good. Now close your eyes and start counting.”

Sonia does just that. She only gets to six hundred and ninety four before security patrols find her, alone under the table, another scared princess cowering in fear. 

Sonia pays close attention to the news, but no young female assassin is ever caught. The crown prince’s death is chalked up to terrorism, security is redoubled at future banquets, and the incident is mostly swept under the rug. 

But Sonia remembers. And at every dinner party, she can never resist the urge to twitch the tablecloth aside to check if maybe the girl has made good on her promise, even though Sonia never told a living soul. When she inevitably finds nothing, she is relieved and disappointed. Sonia wouldn’t mind being killed, she thinks, if that girl was the one to do it.


End file.
